Be Inspired

Moolah

Creative Imperfections

BY CHRISTIN DAUBERT

AS I WRITE THIS COLUMN, I’M STARING INTO THE

SEA. The Atlantic Ocean, to be more exact, but that doesn’t sound as poetic. I can’t say exactly when it was that I first visited the Outer Banks, but I know I love it every second I’m here. Living locally in North Carolina has made me love this place even more. I love meeting so many people who are as enchanted by this little strip of land. My own little piece of paradise lies exactly eight miles after the road ends, in Carova. It’s an untamed beach with wild horses and nary a street light (or sign) to be found for miles and miles. Being here centers me and brings me back to myself, bringing me closer to my creativity. I’m always barefoot and maybe I’m simply soaking up the minerals and energy that makes this beach hum with life. Or maybe it’s more about a different perspective and the natural beauty I am surrounded by every moment I’m here.

When I’m here, I don’t bring paint and canvas, or really anything other than books and the essentials. I admit that I don’t travel with art supplies (unless I’m working on an embroidery). What I am fascinated by is how the constant metronome of the waves compels me to write. Sometimes it’s a short story about the lives of tiny crabs and mollusks that occupy a chaotic cluster of shells I find in the surf. Mostly, though, I write poetry here. I’m deeply inspired by nature and the beauty and destruction of the ocean. (Probably worth mentioning I’m a Pisces.) Whenever I’m walking along the beach, I’m on the lookout for shells and little treasures along the way. Sea glass is always at the top of my list. As I look through the ebb and flow of the water, I think about the

shells most people spend time looking for. The perfect shell. Does an image come to mind for you? A shell that you can bring home as a souvenir to remember your wonderful beach vacation.

On this particular walk, I see the same kind of shells with different cracks and holes. When I flip them over, there are signs of healing and repair. I became fixated with finding more shells just like these. And because I think the universe works in well-timed ways, I kept finding exactly what I was looking for. I thought about the distances they’ve traveled, how many tides they’ve tumbled in, and how often they’ve been picked up by a shell searcher, and thrown back because of their imperfections. And since I’m someone who always has my phone on me, I opened up a note and started writing.

Broken shells survive the storms Leaving pieces behind in the tumble of each tide Every day the same Never ceasing Never picked up next to the unblemished Discarded with notices of a flaw Holes Revealing every crack a history peering through Hidden beneath are marks of repair Healing Growing A life fully lived Cracks, holes, and healing Because broken shells survive the storms

It isn’t lost on me how very fortunate I am to have such an idyllic spot to escape to when I get the chance. In a perfect world, I would be able to close my eyes and tap into the magical nature of this place anytime I need a burst of creativity. I think that might be something we all struggle with, the ability to transport ourselves back to a time or place that inspires or calms our souls.

It might not be the beach for you. You could light up sitting in the middle of a crowded coffee shop, overflowing with creative ideas while sipping on a cappuccino. Or perhaps you want the absolute stillness of the mountains, where the silence is so loud you are able to hear all your inner thoughts.

If this all sounds a little hokey to you, that’s OK too. But if, like me, you’ve craved a little hit of inspiration, I challenge you to explore your surroundings and find someplace where you can fully connect with yourself. SP

Share your creativity on Instagram: Hashtag #SandandPineMag. Also, go to @consciouslychristin to check out Christin's work.